


One More Time

by rambling_ravenclaw



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Eventual Smut, F/F, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Original Character, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, Substance Abuse, Trauma, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7215436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rambling_ravenclaw/pseuds/rambling_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elliot's been hunting alone for a long time, but lately it's been getting more and more dangerous. Having turned to vampire blood as a performance enhancer she now finds herself toeing the line between right and wrong, human and monster, friend and lover. </p><p>Original character entering into the complicated Winchester family. Alternating POVs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hunter's Life For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fan fiction and my first thing posted on this site, so if you see any mistakes or missed/suggested tags/warnings please let me know. I will update the tags as the story progresses. I am a bit nervous writing an original character into the Supernatural world. I feel like I am setting free my precious mind child. But, alas! Enjoy! (hopefully) Comments are appreciated!

Elliot sucked the air hard through her teeth as she inserted the needle into the pulsing vein. Hands shaking a little she pushed down the plunger and watched the dark red liquid enter. A large exhale escaped as the effects of the vampire blood took a hold of her, fingernails scraping into the arm of the chair, pupils dilating, and body filling with strength. Her hands stopped shaking. 

It had been weeks since Elliot had last gotten her fix. As a hunter she was ashamed that it had come to this, but these days it too often felt that she didn't have a choice. Each hunt was becoming more difficult to manage after her partner's death and going it alone had posed new challenges to the seasoned killer. Elliot needed the boost the vamp blood gave her in order to compete with the ever growing array of monsters and to keep her senses sharp. As of yet there had been no signs of ill side-effects, but she wasn't stupid. She kept a series of fail safes on her at all times just in case of an overdose. The last thing Elliot wanted was to become one of the monsters she had sworn to eradicate. 

A loud rap on the restroom door startled her out of her reverie. Soaking up a light nosebleed with some tissue Elliot shouted back at the intruder and made her way through the crowded bar and out to the parking lot. Carefully replacing the small cooler of blood in the back corner of the truck bed camper she grabbed an extra clip of silver bullets and slipped a small, curved silver knife into one of her combat boots. With one last check on the double holster she was wearing under the leather jacket Elliot slammed the door closed and set out for the werewolf pack she had found last night. With any luck it would be a simple job and she could be back on the road drinking tequila by midnight. 

*  *  *

It was _not_  a simple job. The previous reconnaissance had revealed three werewolves and two hostages. For feeding from or turning Elliot didn't know, but either way she didn't want to find out. When she arrived at the farmhouse two additional werewolves had ambushed her nearly biting her while she slashed at their necks. By the time she had disposed of them the others had been alerted and there was no way to escape unscathed. 

Nearly three solid hours of hiding, stalking, and killing later Elliot had 7 werewolf corpses piled up on the front lawn and was cleaning out the claw marks on her side. With the vampire blood still coursing strongly through her veins the smell of the wound caused her nostrils to flare and a light sweat to break out on her forehead. Her throat was parched and when she bit down on her lip as she stitched shut the gashes she could feel her incisors sharpen and break the tender skin. Elliot had to get away from the stench of blood and death before she went crazy. 

Just as she was pulling the last stitch through Elliot let herself vocalize her pain and frustration. As gently as possible she sloshed a mixture of alcohol and water over the wound before wrapping it up with a hiss through her teeth. So honed in on the throbbing, piercing sensation in her side she neglected to notice someone steadily creeping up behind her. At the same time she sensed the newly turned pup three feet from her Elliot heard a gunshot coupled with the thump of a body hitting the earth. Turning around, on guard once more, she saw a smoking gun and a tall, dark-haired man gingerly stepping over the warm werewolf.  

Eyes narrowed in suspicion Elliot evaluated the figure approaching her, clutching the dagger she had taken from her boot. "Don't worry," he assured, hand raised in surrender, "silver bullet."

Elliot let go of the breaths she hadn't realized she was holding and began to pack up her first aid supplies and weapons. "Glad you aren't as stupid as you look," she retorted with false bravado. _Great, another hunter. I'm too hungry to deal with this shit. Last thing I need is for him to notice anything vampy about me._  Indeed she could smell the man's blood pumping loudly through his veins, sloshing through his body like a cool drink of water on a hot summer's day. Elliot smiled to herself as she remembered her grandmother's words in better days soaking up the sunlight with her Meemaw and a jug of sweet tea sweating on the porch swing. 

The stranger scoffed and shook his head at her. "You're _welcome_!" His body language screamed disbelief as he began to turn back towards the barn. 

Releasing a sort of chuckle Elliot hoisted herself off of the cold, hard ground and threw her things over her shoulders for the walk back to the truck. "Oh sugar, sarcasm doesn't look good on you." At his blank look she rolled her eyes as dramatically as she could manage while still being covered in the hunt. " _Thank_  you, my knight in shining armour! I don't know _what_  I would have done without you!" Her falsetto southern drawl was accompanied by a mock swoon and fluttered eyelashes. 

She knew that she was being a bitch, He _did_  just have her back, but Elliot had a bad habit of covering up discomfort with humour and jest. Her mother used to try to beat the habit out of her, to little success. Sobering up at the reminder Elliot gave an awkward wave to the tall man behind her as she ambled away making sure not to look back. If there was anything she had missed at least now there was someone else who could clean it up. Right now she needed tequila, aspirin, and hot bath. 

*  *  * 

Though she didn't get so lucky with the hot bath, opting to wash off in the river near her "campsite" instead, she found three-quarters of a bottle of tequila underneath the passenger seat and dug into her stock of painkillers. The combination of the drugs and her wounds knocked Elliot out cold until about high noon the next day. The harsh glare of sunlight refracting under the truck camper curtains hit her square in the face and made her skin feel like it was sizzling. Damn vamp blood. With a loud growl she threw off her thin blanket and began rummaging around for clothes that were clean enough. Finding the tequila bottle almost drained Elliot cursed and swished the remainder around in her mouth to clean her teeth before swallowing it down. Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. 

Making her way down to the bar she had frequented all week Elliot hopped out of the truck and brought out with her an acoustic guitar case and a pair of sunglasses. She ran her fingers as best she could through her sleep ruined bush of short, dark hair before walking in through the front doors. "Clean enough" had ended up being a pair of tight, ripped jeans, a navy tank top that showed off her full colour sleeves and back tattoos, and her favourite converse. She sat down at the bar pushing the sunglasses up onto her head as she scanned the venue. Putting the edge of her ever present dog tags between her teeth she nodded to the bartender and tapped on the counter. Said bartender winked at her and began pouring out a glass of whiskey before placing it seductively in front of her. 

"Now, now Elliot. It isn't even 3 in the afternoon. What's a pretty girl like you doing in a dump like this?" The bartender, Heather, leaned forward onto the counter looking out from under long, thick lashes. 

"Sightseeing," Elliot remarked coyly. Feeling bold with a successful hunt and last night's injection she grasped Heather's chin and planted a soft, teasing kiss on her lips. Heather began to blush from the crown of her head down into her cleavage, making her dusting of freckles stand out even more. Grinning at a job well done, Elliot gave her hand a squeeze before grabbing the whiskey and heading to the stage with her guitar. 

Though her mentors had taught Elliot how to lift credit cards and fake IDs for survival she liked to earn honest money where she could. She usually did a few nights of bar tending here, sidewalk busking there, or tarot card readings but Elliot also played her guitar in bars while she was in town. For her performing was one of the few times she was able to forget what she did, who she was, and what she'd seen and instead focus on what she _could_  be. 

Almost reverently Elliot began to tune her guitar, focusing in on the individual vibrations of the strings against the air. It was nice to be out of the irritating sun and sitting, resting her swollen side. She plugged in the amp and did one last check of the vocals before beginning her set. Not that she expected a large crowd. Late lunch time was not exactly the ideal time for big money, but it wasn't like she was a big name. 

Elliot Roth. Wanda Griggs. Peony Bartlett. Brooke Lindon. Keyton Miller.

None of these were her real name, though all her primary IDs and hunter friends referred to her as Elliot Roth. The name she had almost forgotten, the name she had left behind forever after coming home to her demon-possessed mother cutting out her six-year old brother's heart, was Dayna Hayton. Elliot had buried that name and that past behind her in the same grave she had buried her family over a decade ago. At nearly sixteen she had packed her grandmother's tarot cards, some spell books, and her mama's check book before taking her grandfather's truck as far away from Louisiana as she could get.

A small beep from her watch startled Elliot from her thoughts as she became aware of the room. Pasting on a winning smile, she looked up at the half full tables and began to sing.


	2. An Unexpected Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh heyyy there. I am on a roll writing these chapters right now, so I am just going to keep posting until the inspiration stops. I have had this story in my head for a while now, so it is time to set it free. Please feel free to comment and tell me how you like it so far.

Dean was pissed. Last night they had arrived at the werewolf lair they were investigating to find the pack already iced and the hunter responsible prancing off and leaving them clean up to them. Not only did they have to do the gross dirty work but also didn’t get the satisfaction of ganking the sons of bitches they had been following for days. As mad as Dean was, though, he could see that Sam was upset for a completely different reason. He had come upon the hunter sewing themself up before leaving, but by the amount of blood left by the hunter it was clear that they needed medical attention, and fast. Dean had been trying to talk Sam out of looking for the injured woman and just go home to the bunker since they got back to the motel room at 5am. Sam was not impressed, to say the least.

With a heavy sigh, Dean closed the door of the Impala and walked towards the bar they had decided to stop at on their way out of town. Sam slammed his door pouting earning a glare from Dean. In response Sam just stormed past his brother and ahead into the building. Shaking his head Dean checked his watch and followed Sam. 4:41pm. Close enough to 5 o’clock for whiskey. A smile coming onto his lips he entered the bar with much more confidence than usual and ended up walking right into his giant of a brother.

“Dude, what the hell?” he grumbled. He was about to resume his tirade when Sam turned around with a look on his face reminding him of an excited puppy.

“Dean! I found her!” When he just stared blankly Sam continued. “It’s the hunter from last night! We can help her now!”

Now Dean was really confused. If this hunter was as injured as Sam had said, why was she in a bar? So much for heading home right away, all Dean wanted to do was order some greasy pizza and read comics on his bed in his underwear. “Okay, okay I get it, Sam. _Where_ is she?” He was looking in the direction Sam was pointing expecting a haggard figure hunched over a table but all he saw was a tall dark-skinned woman drinking whiskey on the stage with a guitar in one hand.

At Sam’s insistence they both sat down at a table not too far from the stage and ordered a couple of beers. Still not convinced that the musician was the one they were looking for, Dean humoured his brother and started drinking while giving her the once over. The loose tank top she was wearing could be hiding a bandage, but not comfortably. There were some lacerations and bruises on her face, but nothing overly major and it was hard to tell what bruises were on her arms due to her vivid tattoos.

As he watched the person of interest drained the last contents of her glass and settled the guitar once more across her lap. Finally looking up a flash of recognition crossed her face when she saw him and his brother sitting there. Just as quickly it was gone replaced by a knowing smirk that reached her light green eyes. Intrigued, Dean leaned in.

“Thank you all once again for your warm welcome. I have one last song for you today. I hope you enjoy it.” When she spoke Dean heard an accent he couldn’t quite place and she spoke with a lilt that sounded like she was laughing at some inside joke. Before he had time to think on it further the opening chords of Enter Sandman by Metallica distracted him.

He stared at Sammy in disbelief and found him looking back just as surprised. _Metallica_? In _acoustic_? It seemed like blasphemy to Dean, a classic rock purist himself, but then she started singing. “Shit,” he managed to say under his breath. “That’s just not fair.” They both listened on in silent appreciation until the song was over and clapped along with the rest of the crowd. Leaning back towards Sam he whispered, “Are you sure she is injured? She looks pretty fine to me.”

Sam just shook his head. “It’s definitely her alright. We should go talk to her anyways. It’s always good to meet new hunters. You know, expand the network.” Based on the shy shrug of his shoulders Dean suspected Sam also had an ulterior motive. His suspicions were proven right when his brother stood up and flattened his hair with one hand and straightened his shirt with the other. They were both in t-shirts for once abandoning their layers in the significant heat of Arkansas’ August weather. Draining his beer Dean threw some cash on the table and followed his oaf of a brother up to the side of the stage where the woman was descending.

“Hi. I, um, I think we met last night.” God, he was so awkward. Sam stood there like a fool with his hand outstretched until he finally lowered it to his side and started scuffing his boots on the concrete floor. “I-I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean.” At the introduction Dean raised his hand in a wave and nodded his head. Non-committal, just the way he liked it. “Um, we were just wondering if you needed any help after last night. I mean, no one could solo that house and not need to get looked after.”

Tact. Dean _knew_ that he had little to no tact, but even he could see that the woman had gotten progressively more uncomfortable after the word Winchester. “What I think Sam _meant_ to say is, good job last night,” he interrupted, trying to save Sam’s ass. “We just wanted to talk, you know, _hunter to hunter_.” Dean lowered his voice for the last words. Though in this part of the US people would probably presume they were talking about animal hunting he didn’t want to jeopardize whatever connection the woman had made here. “And, sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” 

“That’s because I didn’t give it, _Winchester_.” The name sounded like bile on her tongue, a stark contrast to the strong, soulful tones he had heard earlier. “I am just fine, thank you for your concern. Now if you will **excuse me** , I have to get going.” She pushed the brothers aside with surprising strength and strode towards the back room of the bar. 

Dean looked at Sam. “Smooth.”

Sam was floored. “What did _I_ do?”

Dean honestly didn’t know, but this had just turned into a mystery and he needed the challenge.

*  *  * 

A few hours later the Winchester brothers had found out everything the patrons knew about one Elliot Roth. Having blown into town two weeks ago the rumour was that she had hooked up with the bartender, Heather, and had been sharing her bed ever since. Other than that they knew she drove a ratty blue truck with an equally ratty camper on the truck bed. Currently Sam and Dean were in the Impala staking out said truck waiting for Elliot to show herself. Sam had opposed the idea saying that it was wrong to treat fellow hunters as suspects, but Dean wasn’t listening. She had said their family name the way the demons did and, while he knew the brothers weren’t exactly the most popular of pairs, he didn’t know why a hunter would be holding a grudge against them. Also, _7_ _werewolves_ solo?! That was insane even according to Dean’s standards. If he were to be foolish enough to attempt that he would have to be healed by Cas in order to get out as unscathed as her. With these thoughts running through his head he barely registered that he was unconsciously asking advice of Castiel in his head.

“You are right, Dean. Something more is going on,” spoke a deep, husky voice spoke from the backseat. Both Dean and Sam jumped so hard they knocked their heads against the roof of the car.

“ _Shit_ Cas!” Dean shouted. “How many times do we have to tell you not to sneak up on us like that!?” All the answer he got from the angel was a customary head tilt as he continued to look beyond them and into the parking lot.

“I will investigate.” Before either of the boys could protest Castiel had flown out of the car once more.

With a big sigh Dean rubbed the top of his head. “You know, I’m real happy Cas got his mojo back. Truly. But _fuck_ I don’t miss _that_ ,” he said angrily pointing to the back seat. Rubbing a similar spot on the top of his own head Sam simply sighed in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for the acoustic Metallica song here:
> 
> https://youtu.be/vAzMZBjF6Tw


	3. Red Handed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas' POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a short chapter, but I kind of want to keep the POVs in separate chapters. Next chapter is almost done :)

Though Castiel would never admit it to the Winchester boys, his favourite part of getting his grace back was flying. Sure, not feeling like he was dying and being able to heal without passing out was great, but nothing quite beat the feeling of the wind caressing his face and ruffling through his wings.

As Cas left the brothers grumbling in the Impala he enjoyed a few unnecessary seconds of flying before appearing next to the truck they had been watching. He ran his fingers through his hair enjoying the cool feel of it on his fingertips. So much had changed since his experience as a human. Letting his vessel feel the textures and temperatures of his surroundings was now something he did all the time. Especially around Dean…

Shaking himself out of his thoughts Castiel focused on the truck in front of him and began to survey the inside. The seats looked quite ordinary, unsurprisingly, as hunters rarely let evidence of their lifestyle out in the open. No, if Cas were to find anything it would be in the worn down camper hitched into the bed of the truck. He reached his hand out to touch the rough metal and take a look inside but was shocked to find himself pushed to the ground by a bright spark.

 _Damn_ , he cursed under his breath. _Angel proofed_. His suspicions grew even further. Okay, so not just any hunter but one who knew how enough Enochian to be a potential threat. Castiel quickly stood up and dusted off his trench coat before heading towards the bar’s back door. It was time for some angel spying.

Cas had found her by following the scent of blood in the air. According to Dean’s thoughts and subconscious prayers the woman was gravely injured from the werewolves of last night. Sure enough when he went invisible to get closer he saw her lifting up a blood soaked bandage from her side and wincing. The edges of the gashes had a slight black tinge to them and there was liquid oozing from inside. As he watched, curious, she tucked her shirt up into her sports bra and took off her belt to place it between her teeth. She then used the blood from the wounds to draw a symbol over them.

Castiel knew he should intervene. The Enochian symbol she was using was the correct one for a healing spell, but the energy it used up was immense. In the past he would have stopped her and healed her himself, whatever the consequence. But now? He needed to know what and who they were dealing with. So Cas watched as the woman named Elliot laid her hand over the bloody symbol on her side and began to chant.

A dim light began underneath the palm of her hand and began to grow brighter as it entered her body. Her eyes rolled back into her head as autopilot took over and the chant continued. Castiel knew that ritual was complete when her eyes snapped back into place and she let go of the scream she had been withholding into the leather belt. Removing her hand the black edges of the wounds had gone and the gashes had gone down to slits. Almost immediately Elliot fell to her knees and began puking into the nearby bushes.

Having seen enough Castiel flew back to update the Winchesters.

 *  *  * 

“Okay, so let me get this straight. She angel blocked you from the truck and she healed herself using _Enochian_?” Dean’s voice rang out incredulously. “Who the fuck _is_ she?”

Castiel shrugged his shoulders down at his clasped hands in his lap. “I don’t know, but I don’t think that we should ignore this. There was something strange about her eyes, a bloodlust of sorts when she was treating her wound. We should talk to her before she leaves town.”

“Agreed,” Sam nodded enthusiastically. Though initially disappointed when they had discovered Elliot’s choice of bedmate Sam had recovered quickly and was back to being concerned.

The three men left the Impala when they saw their target approaching her truck. Castiel went ahead and flew up behind her while the brothers went straight towards her. Eyes narrowed at the two she could she as she grasped at her knife resting on her hip.

“What the fuck do you want? I have no interest in swapping hunting stories.” Elliot’s voice held a combination of disgust and light-hearted jest that confused the angel. Deciding to reveal himself he appeared at her elbow causing her to jump. “ _Fuck_! Who’s your creepy friend?” she joked with an increasingly nervous laugh.

Cas squinted his eyes at her and decided to, as Dean always said, cut to the chase. “How do you know the Enochian spells?”

The color drained from Elliot’s face as she connected the dots. Reading her body language a split second before she attacked, Castiel jumped in front of the boys and stopped her knife before it could land a hit. Abandoning the weapon, she spun around delivering a powerful roundhouse to Cas’ head before ducking around and tackling Sam to the ground. Dean took the opportunity to deliver a well-deserved punch to the woman as she sprung up from the ground. Instead of staggering backwards like she ought to have, Elliot licked the blood from her split lip and grinned at Dean unmoving.

“That all you got, _Winchester_?” she spewed tauntingly.

Again with the way she said the name. Castiel saw the situation devolving and stepped in behind Elliot knocking her out with a touch of his fingers. Looking back to the brothers as he caught her in his arms he explained, “We had better take her back to the bunker for questioning. Something is not right.”

Shaking out his hand in pain Dean retorted, “You’ve got that right. That punch shoulda laid her out on her ass.”

Castiel smiled lightly at the crude tone of his Dean. Wait… _His_ Dean? Crap. Smile dropping as quickly as it had appeared Cas cleared his throat and directed Sam to drive Elliot’s truck back to the bunker while he flew her ahead and secured her in the basement. Having agreed, Castiel took flight thinking about the way Dean had smiled when said “see you soon.” Like a promise of something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me yo' comments! :)


	4. If At First You Don't Succeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's POV

Charlie was lining up her last of three straight bull’s-eyes when her phone rang. Letting go of the dart in surprise she cursed loudly when it landed in the outer circle. To a chorus of “oooooh’s” and mocking laughter she answered her phone angrily spitting, “This better be fucking good, Dean. I just lost my favourite Magic card because of you.”

A huff of irritation sounded from the other end of the line. “What do I care about some Magic card? Listen, we need you down at the bunker. How far are you?”

Sighing at the lack of compassion coming from her idiot pseudo-brother Charlie rolled her eyes and walked away to a quitter corner of the bar. “I _was_ Dallas sweeping the floor with these peons and flirting with some nerdy girls, but I guess now I am on the road.” Taking a moment to pay for her bill at the counter, Charlie grabbed her Star Wars sweatshirt from her chair and flipped off the boys at the dartboard before walking towards her car. “So what is it this time? And have you tried turning it off and on again?”

“What? No, listen. We found a hunter in Arkansas and it looks like she’s gone rogue. Cas is concerned and we could use an extra hand for research and, um…”

“Snooping around. Got it. When will you nut up and just tell me you missed me? “

“Not in a million years kiddo. See you soon.”

Charlie smiled at the love she heard in his voice. It was nice to have a family she could rely on and return to. She just hoped that they hadn’t gotten in over their heads. Again.

 *  *  *

Charlie stood in front of the truck camper doors puzzled. “You need help getting into _that_?” she said sceptical.

Dean and Sam gave each other a look and Sam had the decency to look sheepish staring down at his shoes. Charlie had hauled ass getting back to the bunker to find the boys sitting on a cooler in the massive garage staring at the truck and drinking beer.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me. You boys owe me a new Magic specials card,” she declared looking at them accusingly. This time even Dean looked down a little cowed.

“Now what do we have here…” she said softly, looking at the complicated lock. Someone liked their secrets, that was certain.

Charlie could see the nicks in the metal where it was clear the boys had tried forcing it open. From what little she knew it looked like the combination lock was secured by some sort of spell. There were 5 number slots to go through and far too many combinations to go through manually. 

"Do we know anything at all about this hunter? Anything that might help us break into this thing?" She questioned. 

"Not a damn thing," Dean commiserated. "Except that she can take on 7 werewolves by herself, she packs a mean punch, can take one too, and knows how to heal with Ennochian spells."

If Charlie had been drinking she would have done a spit take. "Damn, /seven/ werewolves? Well shit." She looked back at the lock and cracked her knuckles. "Alright bitches, if you want me to crack this thing I need a little more help. What has she said?" 

This time Sam piped up. "Actually, she hasn't said anything. Cas said he would let us know when she woke up, but she's been out since we left Arkansas. Honestly I'm not even sure if... What are you doing Charlie!?"

She had gotten impatient with the giant's blabbering and started breaking the cheap windows of the camper, brushing off shards of glass as she reached in. Looking back smugly she said pointedly, "Well are either of you going to help me in?" Getting over their shock the boys helped her shimmy into the camper. With only a couple of bumps on the way down Charlie made it in and began describing what she saw in the light from her phone's flashlight. 

"Woah. This is some freaky shit. Not that I should be surprised with you guys, but still. There are these red sigils all over the walls and a huge box of weapons and shit. Ouch..." Charlie sucked at the wound on her finger. "And the knives are all super sharp. There is a duffel bag in a corner here by the bedding. Looks like a bunch of clothes. Oh, found a ripped up, bloody shirt and some broken bottles. Ugh, it reeks of alcohol in here. And..." Her flashlight swung over to a small cooler on the opposite end of the truck bed. Crawling closer she saw the biohazard sticker on the outside and a 'Property of Sacremento Community Memorial Hospital'. "Um, looks like she's got a store of blood over here, but could be dead man's blood? That's something you guys use, right?" Grabbing the handle she lugged the cooler out of the broken window before wiggling her way out herself. 

Landing on the ground next to Sam she saw the boys opening up the cooler and looking through the contents. There were injection supplies and labelled jars full of dark red blood. Coming over Dean's shoulder Charlie read one of the labels out loud. "'Salem nest, 07/16/15'" Moving over to the next jar she continued. "'Milwaukee nest, 08/02/16.' Guys... Is this what I think it is?"

"She's been shooting up vampire blood. That explains why she was able to take on Cas and my punch didn't even faze her," Dean explained, relieved. 

"Are you sure that's not because you hit like a girl that didn't learn how to hit?" laughed Sam. 

"Ya wanna find out?" Standing up the brothers started towards each other before Charlie put a hand on their chests. 

"As much as I am enjoying this little pissing match, don't you think we should go find Cas?" Reluctantly Sam and Dean started downstairs. "It's fine!" she shouted after them. "I'll bring the nasty vamp stuff!" Hefting up the cooler once more she followed the Winchesters down to the basement.  

*  *  *

Castiel met them at the door. "She's been having nightmares, but I think she's coming around. She kept muttering in a different language, but I couldn't catch what she was saying. What did you find out? Hello Charlie."

"Well heya Cassie!" Charlie lived for tormenting the socially awkward angel. To that end she threw her arms around Castiel feeling him turn stiff before hesitantly bringing his hand onto her shoulder. "Atta boy. We'll get you touchy-feely yet." At that she saw Cas and Dean exchange an odd glance before moving their eyes anywhere but at each other. Smirking to herself she planted the cooler down on a nearby table and motioned for Sam to explain. 

As he did so Charlie scooted behind the boys to sneak a peak into the infamous sex dungeon. Chained to a chair in the middle of a large devil’s trap was a woman in a ragged flannel and jeans lolling her head back and forth. As Charlie made her way into the room the woman sat up straight suddenly with eyes wide open and began screaming in a dark growl. Castiel rushed to her side as she screamed again, this time ending in a string of curses Charlie had never heard before. With a grim grin twitching onto her face Elliot turned to look straight at the Winchesters.

“Now, if this any way to treat a guest?” she said sardonically. “I don’t know how you hunters do things in Kansas, but where I come from visitors are treated with a bit more… civility,” she ended pointedly looking at her chains.

“And where is it exactly you come from?” Sam began to question. “As far as we are concerned you showed up out of nowhere with vamp blood, demolished a pack single-handedly, and then tried to run.”

A bitter laugh rang out from the center of the circle. “So you found that, huh? What do ya say you cut me loose and we can talk about it, sugar.” Charlie shivered at the electric undertone of her voice.

“How do we know you aren’t going to cut and run if we do? Right now we don’t know _what_ you can do on that shit,” reasoned Dean.

Elliot scoffed loudly. “Like you guys are one to talk. Who here _hasn’t_ used a little boost now and then to step up their hunting game? I don’t know if you have noticed or not, holed up in your little clubhouse here, but shit’s gotten crazy out there. I have done what I needed to for _survival_.” Gazing at each of them in turn she continued, “And wouldn’t you cut and run if you woke up chained up in some freaky place like this? How about I make you a deal. I will pinkie promise not to run.” At the sceptical looks they gave her she attempted to raise her hands in defense. “You can put a tracer on me if you don’t trust me, just…” Lifting her arms once more and jangling the chains around her wrists, “Come on…”

Sam motioned the others to the side crossing his arms tight over his chest. Brows drawn down on his face he turned to the others. “So what do we think? Can we trust her?”

Charlie finally piped up. “Well, has she actually _done_ anything? Or all y’all just hella suspicious and want to play with a new toy? Don’t look at me like that!”

“She’s right,” Castiel sighed. “With a tracker she can’t leave and we don’t actually know if she has been going down the wrong path. She could just need our help.”

After a reluctant agreement from Dean and Sam’s nod, Castiel turned back to Elliot. “This is going to hurt,” he said sadly.

“No shit Sherlock, just get to it so I can eat. I’m fucking starving,” she retorted.

With one last glance at the brothers Cas channelled his grace and carved the sigil into Elliot’s forearm. When he was finished he unlocked the chains and helped her to her feet. As she rubbed her wrists from the hard cuffs she finally looked at Charlie. “Well hey there handsome,” she said smiling, looking her up and down. “Come here often.”

Charlie wasn’t much for blushing, but she quirked a little smile as she turned around and said, “Allow me to show you to your room, milady.” Catching the boys’ eyes as she passed she winked. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	5. Uncertain Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot's POV. Charlie and the new girl get a little closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I have another few chapters waiting to be published. Let me know if you like it so far. :)

Elliot woke in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around her legs. Fingernails clawed at her face and her neck as she struggled to catch her breath. Her blood was on fire and her eyes felt as if they were sinking into their sockets. Rolling onto her side she began to dry heave, shaking violently. _Merde_ , she swore emphatically. Painfully sitting up from the borrowed bed Elliot swung her legs over the side and ran her fingers through her damp, tangled hair.

Without a top-up of blood before the vampire blood ran out of her system she encountered some nasty symptoms. Though it wasn’t ideal – or very appetizing – Elliot let her temporary fangs lengthen just enough to break the skin at her wrists. Feeling the dribble of blood trickling down she stuck her tongue out and hesitantly licked. _Ugh_ , she gagged. Bracing herself she continued to drink her own blood until she finally stopped shaking. With a final lick to clean off the wound Elliot staunched the flow and found the bandages she kept in her duffel bag.

Though the Winchesters had taken her weapons and vampire bloodstock she still had the rest of her things. Her watch told her it was just after 4am so she got up and threw on some jeans and a comfortable button down that covered the bandages on her wrist. After a week held prisoner in this place she still had not gotten her fill of its secrets. She had avoided the brothers as best she could, opting to answer questions from the angel and flirt with the redhead. At this time of day she knew that only Castiel would be awake so she took her chances and visited the extensive library of the Men of Letters.

Elliot’s grandmother, affectionately called MeeMaw, was well-known psychic and had taught her granddaughter everything that she knew. While Elliot certainly did not have the natural talent that MeeMaw had had she was able to cast survival spells and protect herself from the immediate dangers of the future. Having run through the few spell books she had procured and whatever other lore she could get her hands on, the library in the bunker was a true academic’s dream come true. Head feeling clearer after the blood this morning Elliot grabbed a few books from the shelves she had been meaning to get to and set up her notebook in the corner of the room for another day of studying.

By the time the other inhabitants of the place had bumbled through to the kitchen for breakfast Elliot had already finished off a pot of coffee, two muffins, and the keynotes from a volume on Enochian curses that she had started the day before. She could tell Castiel had been watching her unseen by the strong presence she could sense. He had probably seen her breaking down this morning as well, but she figured he was going to keep that information for the Winchester boys later, but first, Elliot’s favourite part of the morning.

It was clear that Charlie was _not_ a morning person, which meant that there was a solid hour while she struggled to wake up where Elliot could surreptitiously watch her over her coffee mug. As much as Elliot despised the Winchesters the woman seemed to see them as family. Not seeming the type to take that likely, Elliot was curious to discover this other side of the brothers that had charmed the likes of Charlie Bradbury.

“Leave any for me?” A voice interrupted.

Almost spilling her coffee from the surprise Elliot looked up to see the redhead in question smiling down at her with bemusement. “Um…” she cleared her throat, embarrassed to be caught staring. “Sorry, what?”

“Any _coffee_ numbnuts,” she laughed. Her smile was infectious and Elliot found herself laughing with her.

“Oh, sorry. I think I drank the last of it,” she responded, trying her best to look chagrined.

“Dammit,” Charlie sighed, disappointment evident on her face. “Um, do you want to come into town with me to pick up some more? Maybe grab a cup while we are out?” She trailed off, biting her lip.

_Breath, Roth_ Elliot tried to tell herself. _It’s not like she is asking you out or anything. You just drank all her fucking coffee!_ Once more clearing her throat like a fool Elliot stammered – _stammered_ – out a yes.

“Wicked!” she said with relief. Charlie’s smile reached up into her eyes. “I’m just gunna tell the boys we’ll be back soon. Meet you at the car in 10?”

Elliot nodded, scared to respond out loud. _It’s a date_ , she thought to herself, mentally facepalming. _Get over yourself. She probably thinks you are some junkie freak. And she should. Fuck. First decent girl you meet in years and **this** is the impression you leave_. Shaking herself out of it Elliot grabbed her wallet from her room and walked towards the bunker’s garage. As she did she prayed to whatever gods there were left to keep her from making an even further fool of herself. As she passed the kitchen she could have sworn she saw Cas smile.

 * * *

“So, what is your favourite movie?”

Elliot laughed. “What?”

Charlie leaned in over the table. “Well all I have heard for a week straight is danger this and yadda yadda yadda that. To me you don’t really seem that dangerous.” At the incredulous look Elliot gave her she hastened to clarify. “I mean, don’t get me wrong you look like you could kick the ass of an entire biker gang. But… I just can’t believe that you are dangerous.”

Elliot twisted her coffee cup in her hands as she contemplated what to say next. She didn’t fancy getting into her addiction right now or the past that led her there. Nobody needed that type of burden. She settled for a dose of humour to cover her awkwardness.

"Well, I have a confession to make..." she took a deep breath to further the suspense. As hoped the other woman leaned forward excitedly. "I... Don't like Star Wars. There! I said it." Elliot sighed and leaned back as if a hefty burden had been removed from her shoulders. 

Charlie immediately recoiled, a look of horror on her face. "I've changed my mind," she stated confidently. "You /are/ a monster!" 

Both girls began to laugh heavily. Every time they were about to let up they would look at each other again and lose it all over again. Elliot hadn't laughed like this in... Must have been /years/ now. Tears of mirth sparkled in her eyes as she caught the dirty looks of the other patrons. 

Without noticing what she was doing she grabbed Charlie's hand on the table and gave it a light squeeze. The redhead's eyes widened as she looked at their joined hands. Neither girl was laughing now. Realizing her error Elliot made to move her hand away only to find Charlie grabbing it back, lightly rubbing her thumb across the dark, scarred knuckles. Elliot held her breath. /Please let this be real/, she half prayed. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she let her eyes wander from their now intertwined hands up to Charlie's green eyes. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly made both of them jump. Their server stood at their booth with her hands on her hips looking less than impressed. "How would like your bills? Separate? Or..." her eyes travelled down to their still joined hands disgusted. "Together..." 

The server trailed off as Elliot self-consciously made to pull her hand away. Charlie gripped it tighter and turned to the woman with a sickly sweet smile. "We're together. Thank you." 

Though she knew Charlie was most likely just saying that to get back at the server, Elliot felt a blush creep up the back of her neck and and disappear into her hairline. 

By the time she could look at Charlie properly they had already left the diner and were in the nearby grocery store picking up some necessities. While they were mulling over which potato chips they wanted Elliot cleared her throat nervously. "So... What kind of music do you listen to?" Gods, could she /be/ more like a love struck teenager. 

Her heart seemed to skip a beat as Charlie glanced her way shrugging. "Oh, you know. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. I saw you have a guitar. Do you play?" She paused and hid part of her face with her hand. "Gah, oh course you play. Why else would you have a guitar..." 

To Elliot's surprise - and delight - Charlie began to blush a little as well. /Well at least I am not the only one feeling awkward. Is this a good awkward, or a bad awkward? Damn guessing games.../ "Would you like to hear some when we get back?" Elliot tried to make herself bold. /Fuck it,/ she reasoned. /If she thinks I am coming on too strong or she really thinks I am a freak, whatever. This is just a pit stop anyways. All I have to do is convince the Winchesters I am clean and then get back on the road./

"Absolutely," she responded enthusiastically. "But..." here she began to smile mischievously. "After I am making you watch all the Star Wars films. Minus the prequels, obviously. I just can't give up hope that you are a decent person deep down."

Elliot grinned, "Challenge accepted." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merde - shit (French)


	6. Leap of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV. Things get a little... steamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless destiel up in here. *shrugs* :)

Dean didn't like admitting he was wrong, but it was becoming abundantly clear that Elliot wasn't nearly as close to going dark side as he had thought. It has now been two weeks since they had brought her here and - while she was definitely struggling - she was definitely not a danger. Sam had been quick to point out that perhaps Dean had just been hankering for a fight and he hadn't liked the way she said their name. "I mean, really Dean," he argued. "We know a _ton_ of people who don't like us based on our reputation. It's not like we have always been straight and narrow."

Dean grumbled into his beer. "Still..." He knew he was acting like a petulant child at this point, but he needed to justify himself. "Cas also thought something was up."

Sam laughed and stood up to grab another beer. "Cas would back you up if you suspected the sky was made of _cheese_. The only one who can't see how smitten he is with you is _you_." The look of horror must have been evident on his face because Sam quickly continued. "And I'm happy for you, Cas is a great guy. Even if he isn't, you know, human. You deserve to be happy after all of the shit you've been through."

Dean must've been more tipsy than he thought because he lowered his usual reserve and asked quietly, "You really think he likes me?" The tall brother's laughs echoed throughout the kitchen. "Well screw you then!" yelled Dean defensively as he also stood up. 

Tears in his eyes Sam motioned for his brother to sit back down. Reluctantly he complied. "Sorry, sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "You just sounded so _young_ is all. Are you in high school?! Anyone with eyes can see Castiel has been in love with you for a while now. _My_ only question is, what the hell has been taking you two so long? We all know how uncertain this lifestyle can be. If I were you, I would be making the most of it."

Hearing love advice from his younger brother was disconcerting to say the least, but he did have a point. Dean had been falling increasingly hard for the angel since he first saw him in that old warehouse showing off his beautiful black wings. Sighing loudly, he placed his face in his hands and tried to think about the pros and cons of confessing to Castiel. He was his best friend and his most constant companion other than Sam. What would he do if he lost him because he wanted something more than the angel wanted, or could want. Even after all these years with Cas, Dean still didn't know enough about angels. He knew that when Cas was human he had similar desires as he had, but now? 

Dean must have been sighing pretty hopelessly because suddenly he felt a large hand clap onto his back. "It'll be okay, Dean. Don't overthink it, just go for it."

"Easy for _you_ to say," he muttered bitterly. Laughing once more Sam tapped Dean's bottle with his own and left him to his thoughts.  

* * *

The sliver of light coming from underneath the door of Castiel's room indicated that he was there. Even though they knew the angel didn't sleep it was nice knowing he had a place with them. Dean took a few deep breaths to steady himself before hovering his knuckles over the door. He had sat in the kitchen drinking until he felt just inebriated enough to walk down the hallway and... And what? Confess his undying love and devotion for his best friend? Throw Cas up against the wall and kiss him until he burst? He hesitated. Now that he was here he was beginning to doubt himself. Castiel was a fucking _angel of the Lord_. A bloody gorgeous one, but still. Dean swayed on his feet as he continued to battle his thoughts. 

Just as he was about to turn tail and run - stumble - back to his room, the door opened wide to reveal a concerned Cas in his usual trench coat and puzzled expression. "Dean?" he asked, brows drawing down. "I felt your turmoil through the walls. What is wrong?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he gazed into Cas's unfathomable blue eyes. _Fuck it_ , he thought a split second before he yanked his angel towards him by the collar and planted his mouth on his. Castiel seemed momentarily frozen in shock before snaking his hands behind Dean's neck and into his hair, fervently returning the kiss. Dean let a low growl escape his throat as he pushed Cas further inside and shut the door. 

He tried to keep himself from over analyzing the situation as much as possible, but a far corner of his mind began to question just how well this was going and whether he was moving too fast. Any doubts that crossed his mind fled when Castiel turned the tables and tossed Dean onto the bed with him on top. Having broken the kiss, Cas raised a hand and reverently caressed the side of his face. Dean leaned into the hand closing his eyes to savour the touch as Cas began to nuzzle his face into his neck. 

"Dean..." he growled with a hoarse undertone. Blinking his eyes open Dean captured Castiel's hands in his and placed little kisses on each individual finger. Cas' eyes fluttered closed as he whined softly. 

"Shit Cas..." Dean whispered. "You are going to be the death of me..." 

Castiel smiled softly against his chest. "I sure hope not. I'm rather enjoying this."

_That's it_ , Dean thought. _There is no freakin way he gets to be this hot and get away with it_. Using what little willpower he had left Dean rolled over onto his angel pinning his hands over his head. Cas' eyes widened and he bit down lightly on his bottom lip. "Mine," Dean declared, claiming Cas' lips with his own. Cas agreed with his whole body moving up towards him while they moved deeper into the kiss and one another. Their hands moved slowly as they began to relearn each other's bodies as lovers. Each pause for air was coupled with a whimper from one or both of them as they struggled to consume more and more. Dean pushed that stupid, endearingly familiar trench coat off of Cas along with the suit jacket he was wearing underneath. "We really need to get you new clothes, Cas" he grumbled into the collar of his white button up. 

Castiel frowned lightly as he looked down at the crumpled coat laying forlorn on the floor. "But Dean, I do not  _need_ other clothing. This is practical."

If Dean could roll his eyes any further they would be in the back of his head right now. "Before saying anything about your vessel, just..." he interrupted before Castiel could ruin the moment with some reason his angelic powers didn't need a change of clothes. "That's not the point." Dean kissed the confusion off of Cas' forehead as he made a trail with his lips down to his jaw. 

"I should have known..." whispered Cas, sighing into the featherlight kisses.

"Known what, angel," Dean asked, not breaking the contact of lips to skin. Cas groaned as Dean began to nip lightly under his jaw.

"When I raised you from perdition I began questioning everything I had ever known. Millenia of training and faith and then you-" Cas broke off gasping. He continued almost accusingly. " _You_ came along and my thoughts turned blasphemous. It was no longer curiosity about humans. It was desire for you, Dean." Dean's heart skipped a couple of beats and he had to remind himself to start breathing again. Being overcome with emotion was not a comfortable feeling of him and he would never admit it to anyone, but is was  _Cas_. If he could feel vulnerable and safe around anyone it was this little weirdo. 

"Desire? Me?" Gods, he wasn't even speaking in full sentences anymore. He tried to clear his throat and found it still came out husky when he went on. "What about now? Are your thoughts blasphemous now?"

Castiel's sly grin took him off guard. His range of human expressions had widened significantly since he first came to Earth. "I do not believe that my thoughts have  _ever_ been more blasphemous. You owe me for felling an angel." 

Dean laughed as Cas' hands slipped under his shirt to skitter across his back muscles. "Owe you, do I?" When Cas nodded solemnly Dean couldn't help a huge grin from splitting his face before sobering up enough to earn down and whisper in Castiel's ear. "I will spend until the end of days making it up to you, if you'll let me?" He groaned inwardly, could he  _be_ any more chick-flick like? Maybe hanging around Sam so much was finally rubbing off on him. Cas' big blue eyes softened as he looked back at Dean, making it all worth it.

An loud knock at the door made them both jump. Giving Dean a sheepish look at odds with the tousled hair and his kiss-swollen lips Castiel moved to get up from the bed and answered the door. Dean immediately wishes he hadn't. Sam stood on the doorway trying and failing to hide a wide grin as he looked from Cas' disheveled appearance to Dean sitting on his bed fixing his shirt. "What do you want, Sam?" he growled, irritated at the intrusion. 

Sam had the decency to avert his eyes and cleared his throat. “Sorry… Um, the girls are back with dinner. Pizza…” he trailed off awkwardly. “So I’ll just leave you to it.” With a smile and a wink at Dean – to which he responded with a middle finger in his direction – Sam closed the door behind him and left the two alone once more.

Castiel returned to his side and hovered hesitantly. Dean smiled softly as he grabbed Cas’ hands once more and pressed his face against his chest. Looking up slyly he gazed into his angel’s eyes and began to kiss his way back up to his lips. Cas’ eyes were filled with awe and love as he helped Dean to his feet. They stood wrapped in each other’s arms as they kissed trying to convey all of the feelings they had kept hidden for so long.

After a number of minutes Dean’s stomach began to growl. Cas laughed lightly and pulled him towards the door. “We can finish this later. Eat, human.” Joining in his lover’s laughter Dean followed him to the kitchen more happy than he had been a long time.


	7. Slow Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's POV.

These past few weeks at the bunker had been like heaven to Charlie. Ever since she had come back from Oz it had been one hunt after another as she hopped from one sleazy motel to another - Winchester style. Having the chance to wake up in the same place every day and do whatever she wanted to was a novelty she hadn't experienced in a while. She still went on the occasional local hunt with Sam or Dean, but even when they were out someone was left with Elliot at the bunker. Charlie could tell that the seclusion was getting to the woman as every time they got ready to leave for a hunt she stood watching them longingly. 

Within the last couple of weeks Elliot had also become increasingly distant. In the beginning of their budding relationship they had spent all their days in the library, playing games, watching movies, jamming on the guitar, or talking over coffee. Now there were mornings when Elliot wouldn’t leave her room until the late afternoon with her eyes red rimmed and swollen. The dark circles under her eyes had gotten much worse and she had begun to shake throughout the day. Sometimes Charlie would enter the room and catch Elliot shivering under a blanket muttering something under her breath. When this happened she tried to give her some space and simply brought her tea or sat near her allowing her to feel she wasn’t alone.

Today they were watching some of the original Star Trek – something they could both agree on – while cuddling under the same blanket. Elliot had fallen asleep on Charlie’s shoulder and was snoring softly. Charlie smiled down at the woman she had come to care deeply for and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. She placed a light kiss on her forehead and settled her head onto Elliot's content.

Dean walked in and stopped in his tracks when he saw them on the couch. Gaze shifting from one woman to another questioning Charlie raised her eyebrows at him in a challenge. Smiling he shrugged and sat down on a nearby chair. “Well you two seem to be getting along well,” he said teasingly.

“Seems like you and Cas are getting along nicely as well,” she winked back.

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she would have never believed that Dean Winchester could blush. “Sh-shut up…” he grumbled, unable to hide his small smile.

Charlie laughed. “It’s about freakin time! All that eye-fucking was making everyone really uncomfortable.”

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Eye-fucking?” he asked dubiously.

Here she rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please, it was so fucking obvious. We are all super happy you finally tapped that.” She laughed heartily as Dean flushed a deeper shade of red.

“We haven’t… I mean…” he stammered. As if summoned Castiel walked into the room causing Dean to jump to his feet. Cas had begun to wear the Winchester’s cast offs and hand-me-downs in lieu of his usual trench coat and dress clothes. Today he had on a pair of Dean’s old jeans that hung loosely on his hips and a well-worn flannel buttoned up to the very top button. Seeing Dean standing awkwardly next to the girls he paused uncertainly.

Charlie sighed. They were going to need a bit more help it seemed. “It’s fine! Make out already!” she said exasperated to break the silence. Both boys looked chagrined but began to chuckle. Cas walked over to Dean and they sat back down on the chair together, Cas sitting on Dean’s lap, arm over his shoulder. Charlie sat back pleased with herself.

Together they continued to watch Star Trek until the disc ended and the loud credits rolled, waking Elliot up with a start. Charlie soothed her by stroking her hair and rubbing her hand on her arm. Light green eyes blinked open dazedly as she sat up and stretched her arms above her head. Charlie’s eyes followed the lithe silhouette as she moved, pausing when she saw the sleeves of her sweater fall revealing a ruffled looking bandage. Trying to seem nonchalant – even as her heart squeezed painfully in her chest – Charlie entwined her fingers with Elliot’s and smiled at her. Slowly she let her thumb stroke up towards her sleeve and she watched as Elliot froze, realizing that Charlie had seen. Faster than she thought possible given her recent slumber Elliot stood up and began walking towards her room. Giving the confused couple a small smile she followed her down the hall.

“Hey, Elliot,” she called out to the retreating figure. “Elliot, please!” she begged. The woman paused in front of the door without turning to face her, frame rigid. Charlie closed the gap and came up beside her. Turning to catch her eyes Charlie reached for Elliot’s hands and squeezed. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “You are safe with me.” As she watched Elliot’s shoulders began to shake and a tear traced a line down her cheek. “Come here,” she suggested, pulling her along to her own room.

Gently sitting her down on her bed Charlie wiped away the tears from her face. Elliot smiled shakily. “Sorry…” she whispered. Charlie growled loudly making her let out a short laugh.

“No,” she said with certainty. “Don’t you dare be sorry with me.” Elliot raised her eyes to gaze deeply into her green ones. Slowly bringing their noses together to touch she closed the gap and brushed their lips together. Charlie’s heart thrilled at the soft touch as she leaned into the woman’s embrace. Elliot had one arm around Charlie’s waist and one hand on her cheek.

“Please, just… Stay with me?” Elliot asked plaintively. Charlie gave her another slow, sweet kiss in response savouring the warmth beneath her. Elliot's fingers began to sift through her ginger locks as she was pulled in deeper. Charlie slipped her hands onto Elliot's hips with thumbs brushing lightly under her shirt as they fell onto the bed. The kiss deepened and the women moved together taking their comfort from each other as they intertwined their legs. Reluctantly they broke apart their kiss and Charlie settled in behind Elliot holding her to her body tightly. She could hear the occasional sniffle coming from Elliot and nuzzled her face into her dark, curly hair trying to comfort her. “I am right here,” she assured. “I promise.”

* * * 

Charlie awoke in the early hours of the morning alone. Sitting up still in her clothes from the night before she tried to remember when Elliot had left. Worried, she left the room and walked down the hallway until she heard glass shattering. Hurrying to the source of the sound she heard water running and saw a light coming from underneath the bathroom door. Knocking quietly she called out, “Elliot?” No answer. This time she knocked a little louder and got a mumble in response. “Please, Elliot. Let me in. I am just trying to help.”

There was a loud thump from the other side of the door and Charlie cursed out loud. Not realizing that she had prayed in her head, Castiel came running. “What is it? What is wrong?” His hair was seriously ruffled and his shirt was inside out as he approached the door concerned. Seeing the panic on Charlie’s face he used his grace to open the door and stepped into the room.

Though Cas’ shoulders were blocking a good portion of the doorway she could still squeeze through enough to see Elliot laying on the floor next to a broken bottle of tequila with blood on her head, shirt, and shorts. The sink tap was running and there were shards of bloody glass on the counter. Charlie’s stomach dropped as she watched Cas kneel next to the unconscious woman and take stock of the damage. He heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to Charlie. “She is fine,” he revealed. At the look she gave him he amended his statement. “Well, she _will_ be fine. At least from the glass and the fall.” Castiel finished cleaning her wounds and clothes using his powers before lifting her up into his arms and carrying Elliot back to her room. Charlie followed close on his heels, brimming with questions and concerns she knew had no immediate answers.

Once Elliot had been laid onto the bed to sleep off the alcohol Cas turned to Charlie. “I know what you want to ask, but I can’t fix her.” Seeing the disappointment clear in her eyes he clarified. “I can no more cure her of her ailments than I can change the past. ”Looking back towards the fitful sleeper once more he led Charlie out of the room and closed the door. With a last reassuring pat on her shoulder Castiel turned and returned to Dean's room.

Charlie bit down on her lip as she tried to think of ways she could help Elliot. Though she had occasionally had her reasons to drown her sorrows in alcohol she had never gone to the extents that Elliot had at this point. All Charlie knew was that the driving force behind these addictions and habits must be so much stronger than she had personally known. Rogue or not she was grateful that the Winchester brothers had brought Elliot to the bunker.

Unable to get back to sleep, Charlie went down to the library and did some research on the effects of vampire blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it this far! I know it is real angsty right now, but there will be some fluffy fluff and fluffy smut coming up promise. (Not next chapter, but probably the next). Let me know how you like it so far!!


	8. Candle in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's POV. Elliot and Sam have a heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra warning for some pretty heavy trauma.

Watching Elliot's slow descent into madness was driving Sam's mind back to the dark demon blood days. While he was well aware that the two bloods in question were quite different Sam sympathized with the rough withdrawals she was going through. She seemed like she had control over her faculties, making her symptoms harmless to the others, but it was ripping Elliot apart. It was obvious to him that cold turkey was not helping and that they needed to get her at least a little vampire blood so that she could wean off instead. But then there was Dean...

  
Fortunately Dean had been so wrapped up in his new romance to really notice how bad things had gotten lately. Charlie was spending all her time away from hunts in the library looking up vampire lore while Elliot played her guitar half-heartedly and fought her inner demons violently in her sleep. Castiel must've known but had given Sam enough levelled glances to know that he should keep Dean away from the issue. He was aggressive and did _not_  help these situations.

  
Because of this Sam was discreet in collecting a bag full of vampire blood the next time they were out on a hunt and hid it in his messenger bag. After they returned and he was sure that Cas and Dean were busy in their room wrapped up in each other he padded his way down to Elliot's room. Knocking softly so as not to startle her he called out. A scuffle and the sound of glass skittering made his brows furrow as he opened the door cautiously.

  
A lamp lay shattered on the ground as Elliot huddled in the corner made from the bed and the wall behind her. She was in a sports bra and boxer briefs with an oversized hoodie tucked onto her shoulders. Long, red scratch marks showed angrily on her scarred abdomen, neck and chest. At the sight of Sam her face was stricken and she threw her arms over her head and started pleading not to be hurt. "Maman, I'm so sorry. It didn't mean to break it. Je suis desolée, Maman. Pas encore. No more please..."

  
Sam's heart broke as he approached her slowly, trying not to spook her more. Crouching down he held up his hands in surrender. "It's me, Elliot. It's Sam. Sam Winchester. Remember me?" At the name Winchester she cringed visibly. _Shit,_ Sam cursed to himself. He had almost forgot her aversion to the name. "Hey, hey..." He tried to continue soothingly. "It's okay. You are safe. You are in the bunker. No one is going to hurt you..." Elliot's breath slowed to a ragged rasp and Sam scooted closer slowly reaching into his bag. Bloodshot eyes widened and followed the hand the entire time until it reappeared with the unmarked bag of red liquid. Her mouth dropped open as her tongue traced her incisors and her body leaned forward.

  
"Now, it's not much. Just a little to take the edge off and-" he was cut off as Elliot pounced on the bag ripping it open and mouthing the opening like she had been caught in the desert and the bag contained precious water. Which, in a way, it did. Sam was more impressed with how little she spilled in her hurry to down the blood. What did escape ran down her arms in rivulets that she lapped up greedily. A low, needy moan escaped her lips and Sam was glad that there was no one outside the hallway. At least he hoped there wasn't. After pulling the bag inside out and licking up the last drops the whites began to return to her eyes and she dropped the bag in horror. Her body had stopped shaking leaving a tremoring breath and some color rushing back to her face.

  
Eliot sank back down to the floor with her head buried in her hands as loud sobs broke from her body. Sam placed an arm around her shoulders hesitantly at first before bringing her close. He knew it would look bad if anyone walked in - she was half naked after all - but he couldn't quite bring himself to care as she cried bodily. Her head cradled into his chest as she finished crying.

  
Light green eyes were red rimmed as Elliot looked up through wet lashes looking embarrassed. With more energy than she had had all week she stood up and sat on the edge of the bed zipping up her hoodie. Crossing her arms over her chest she grimaced in Sam's direction mumbling a thanks under her breath. Elliot began kicking her heels against the mattress as she finally lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. After a deep breath she whispered more coherently, "I mean it. Thank you, Sam. How did you... I mean, why did you..." She trailed off now that she was thinking more clearly.

  
Sam chuckled kindly and sat in the chair he found against the wall so that he could face her. "When I was addicted to demon blood the come down was one of the most painful thing I have experienced, and I have been soulless!" He continued to chuckle good-naturedly. "Cold turkey is not always the best and it fucking hurts." Sam's smile began to fade. "But we really need to get you off this shit. You don't need it and, let's face it, do really want..." Here he gestured around to the broken glass and the other detritus that had built up since her condition worsened. "...this?" he finished softly.

  
Elliot hung her head and began to worry her bottom lip with her top teeth. "No..." she spoke just as softly. "It's just... No, never mind."

  
Sam ducked his head to catch her gaze. "Not never mind. I mean, I don't know you too well yet, but you seem like a pretty capable hunter to me. Clearly there was a reason you started injecting the stuff. You can tell me." He tried to smile reassuringly though he wasn't sure if it came across as his fake FBI smile or his brotherly know-it-all smile. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working and Elliot began to unwind her stance relaxing back on her palms as she crossed her legs in front of her.

  
She fiddled with the strings of her hoodie as she began. "So I come from a long line of hunters - a _long_ line," she emphasized pointedly. "So before I could walk I was learning how to pour salt lines and pick out spell ingredients by category." Sam raised his eyebrows at that, they didn't learn about spells until later in their hunting careers. "Yeah, I know. So my brothers and I grew up not playing make-believe like the others, but running simulations for each other so we could be prepared to join the moment we could keep the gun steady. By the time I was ten I had killed five werewolves, two vampires, and burned salted bones in 11 different states."

  
Sam whistled lowly. And they had thought _their_ dad was a hard ass. He wasn't entirely where this story was going, but he knew that anything she could tell him would help. Besides that, Sam was kind of a nerd and _loved_ hearing from other hunters who had been raised in the life. It was like a Fucked-Up Childhood Camp where they could trade war stories and show each other their messed up emotional scars. While Sam had had Dean to shield him from much of the shittier parts of being a hunter's kid, neither of them were giving John Winchester a Father of the Year Award.

  
As if reading his mind Elliot scoffed and continued. "Our dad wasn't around much, preferring to chase the hunt unfettered while Maman and the four of us hauled around a trailer catching cases as they came along. We never stayed in one place long because the residents were always calling social services on us. Something about how we cleaned weapons on the RV park lawn or the sheer amount of vodka bottles my mom went through in a week." She shrugged seemingly unperturbed by their unconventional lifestyle. "It was always manageable when we were on the road looking for a family fight. Sure, she was more often than not tipsy, but she didn't get violent in those days. But then... Then Ravi died."

  
Sam leaned forward sympathetically as Elliot's eyes took on a far away look, remembering. "Your brother?" He prompted.  
A nod was all he got for a few moments as she swallowed thickly. "Ravi was 14 at the time, two years older than me. Let's... Lets just say it wasn't pretty. Maman took us back to MeeMaw's house, her Maman, before taking off again to find the demons that killed Ravi. MeeMaw and Papa were great and taught us more theory that Maman had ever had patience for. They were retired - as much as hunters ever retire - and so they provided us the first home we had ever really had. But then my mom would come home... And she'd be drunk off her ass all the time and if we so much as _looked_ at her the wrong way we would get taken out back and, well... When our dad came back he would cheer her along and help if he was feeling extra 'parental'."  
Sam was feeling a little sick. His childhood camp stories were suburb sleepover stories to her nightmares. He tried to school his face into a neutral expression as Elliot grimaced.

  
"A demon eventually got them both, but not before making them murder the rest of the family. I..." She took a shaky breath as tears welled up in both sets of their eyes. "I watched them do it. Each of them slicing bit by bit into my brothers while they screamed... I sat there waiting my turn, frozen until their blood welled up like a puddle around me. Something... Something happened and I used it as a distraction to turn tail and run. I grabbed my Papa's truck and haven't been back. Killing was a little... Tough, after that. When I couldn't save my hunting partners time and again I decided to go it alone. But, I needed a little boost is all."

  
"And that's when you started using vampire blood?" Sam asked, his voice barely over a whisper. A number of tears had already leaked out of the corner of his eyes as he listened.

  
She nodded briefly before squeezing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, the beginnings of a migraine becoming clear in her face. "In one of the books I had it said that the consumption of different creatures blood, without the changing procedure, would give you the temporary benefits. So, I tried and it worked. I have tried others as well but vampire blood lasts the longest and requires the least upkeep to keep from," this time it was Elliot's turn to gesture at the disarray of the room. " _You know_."

  
"If you don't mind me asking, what sort of upkeep are you talking about?" Sam couldn't help his morbid curiosity. He was a nerd, remember?

  
"Consuming blood helps keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay."

  
The chair creaked as Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Like, _human_ blood."

  
Nodding chagrined she specified, "You can use your own though!" At his confused look she continues. "You can just bite your own skin and top up. Socially conscious vampire habits?" She laughed darkly, pausing as it turned into a deep yawn.  
Sam stood up heavily, it had definitely been a long night. "Huh, good to know. Well, um, good night. And, please, don't hesitate to ask if you need anything. I mean it."

  
Elliot smiled warmly up at him, gratitude painting her face. "Thank you again, Sam. Sorry to rain on your suburban sleepover parade. Good night."

  
It wasn't until Sam was drifting off to sleep that he recalled her last words. Suburban sleepover? He hadn't said that _out loud_ had he? Before he could question it further he drifted off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments appreciated!
> 
> Je suis desolée. - I am sorry.  
> Pas encore. - Not again.


	9. Get a Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically straight up smut. Heads up. Because plot is for other chapters. Enjoy! (Also my first smut scene ever so let me know what you think!). Tags have been updated. Feedback appreciated!

Since their last hunt things had settled down quite well at the bunker. Elliot went on runs with Sam in the mornings and proved to be a valuable asset organizing and transcribing the Men of Letters works. She was fluent in French and between translating reports from the other offices and Star Trek marathons she entertained them by playing the guitar and singing. Charlie had been learning with her and would accompany Elliot in some of their performances spending the entire length of the song gazing affectionately at the dark-haired woman. As long as Elliot kept the classic rock adaptations coming Dean was satisfied she was good enough for their Charlie. Behind the scenes Castiel had placed Sam in charge of Elliot's recovery. They had brought back more vampire blood than they had let on in case they needed to wean her off slower, but Cas trusted that Sam would know when to stand firm and when to give in.

They were all in the library pouring over the demon lore when Dean's head slipped from where it had been resting on his hand and onto the table with a loud thump. Everyone but Cas jumped while the angel ducked his head to hide his small smile. "I think it might be time for you to get some rest, don't you think Dean?"

Dean glared in his direction before crumpling up a piece of paper and tossing it at his head. "Screw you, Cas. I'm fine. I just need more coffee."

As he stood up Castiel followed him into the kitchen. Ignoring the odd look Dean was levelling at him Cas reached up in front of the hunter to grab a mug on one of the higher shelves. Hearing a sharp inhale beside him the angel stifled a satisfied grin and continued to invade Dean's personal space under the guise of continuing his search.

Breath low and rumbling Dean growled, "What do you think you are doing, Angel."

Cas thrilled at the pet name but kept a straight face as he tilted his head towards bright green eyes. "I am looking for a suitable vessel for consuming caffeine. According to my observations it is imperative that the vessel be the right shape and size to accommodate-"

The last of his explanation was swallowed up as Dean pressed their lips together and ran his fingers through the short black hair at the back of Castiel's head. Tightening his grip Dean brought his head back exposing Cas' throat before taking his teeth down the side of his neck. The angel whimpered as he tried to rein in his vessel. As Dean continued his attentions Cas felt the fabric of his borrowed jeans begin to chafe against the hardness growing there. "Dean..." Suddenly Castiel felt a matching hardness rubbing against his and he gave up trying to control himself. Grabbing onto Dean's hips he pulled him flush against his body feeling the length of him pressed to him. This time it was Dean's turn to moan as he began to lick open Cas's mouth.

"You have been teasing me, Angel." Lick. "All." Lick. "Week." Lick. "Long." Cas let out another whimper as he tentatively met Dean's tongue with his own. His hands began to roam underneath the hunter's shirt to stroke the warm skin he found there. Dean's hand gripped tighter in the thick black hair as his other hand pressed into the angel's lower back. They were kissing so passionately that neither noticed Sam entering the room until they heard a loud "Ugh, get a room. We _eat_ in here!"

Both men jumped apart and looked towards the hunter guiltily until they realized he had a huge grin on his face. "Whatever, bitch. If you don't like it, don't watch!" Dean returned his brother's grin before throwing a dishcloth at his face. Sam caught it in midair and tossed it back as Dean pulled Castiel by the hand out the door and down the hall. "Jerk!" echoed down the hallway.

Castiel allowed Dean to lead him to the room they had been sharing. As soon as the door was shut behind them Dean slammed him up against it and pinned his hands above his head. They both knew that Cas could overpower the hunter quite easily, but they also both knew that he didn't want to. Cas's breath caught in his throat as Dean began to suck a hickey onto his Adam's apple, his thumbs hooked under Castiel's underwear to rub into the soft skin found there. The whimper that escaped the Angel as his knees weakened quickly became a moan as Dean pressed a thigh between his legs and pressed their erections together. "You like that, Angel?" Dean rolled his hips into the quivering man and nipped his earlobe. "What do you want, baby? What do you need?"

Cas could barely breath - not that he needed to - let alone speak. At the insistence of Dean's tongue roving into the curl of his ear he whined, low and dripping with need, "You. Dean. Please." He felt Dean smile against his neck and whisper back, equally needy, "As you wish..."

Dean pushed away from Cas leaving him to whimper at the loss of contact before realizing what the hunter was about to do. He looked down to find dark green eyes staring hotly up through long eyelashes as Dean went down to his knees and slowly kissed the bulge in his jeans. Cas couldn't hold in his groan nor could he stop his hips from rolling forward, begging for more. With a smirk Dean slowly undid Castiel's pants and freed his erection from its restricting cloth prison. Without breaking eye contact Dean gently placed the head of Cas' penis onto his tongue. The angel's fingers gripped sandy blonde hair aggressively as he tried to keep his hips from snapping forward into his lover's mouth. Clearly Dean had other plans. He licked his way slowly around the head before suddenly gulping down the entirety of Castiel's length.

"Oh, fuck!" Cas sputtered, gripping the hair in his hand even tighter. Dean hummed appreciatively with the head of Cas' cock still firmly down his throat. The sensation was instantaneous and Castiel experimentally brought his hips back before moving them forward. He felt Dean's nose butt against his stomach and almost lost it right then and there. "Dean..." He moaned. "I need, I... I'm gunna..." Dean nearly pulled off completely before pausing to swirl his tongue around the head and then swallowing Cas down once more. "FUCK!" Cas threw his head back against the door as his hips bucked into his hunter's mouth. Dean swallowed all he could leaving a dribble to drip down his chin. Cas slid down to meet him and reverently licked his own cum off of Dean's face.

Dean let out a moan of his own and moved to capture Cas' lips for his own. They could both taste the salty release as their tongues roved over one another's. As Castiel moved his hand to tug open Dean's jeans and reciprocate the hunter suddenly backed away. Misinterpreting, Cas tried to hide his disappointment. Dean let out a sharp laugh and Cas looked up to see the green eyed man gazing at him tenderly. "Come here," he requested. Without hesitation the angel began to crawl over only pausing when Dean began to stand. "Come here," he repeated, this time indicating the bed. Suddenly understanding his intentions Castiel all but flew onto the bed. Dean chuckled softly as he joined him, taking his shirt off in the process.

Openly staring Cas licked his lips as his eyes roamed over the toned chest of the man in front of him. There were several scars littering the surface of the skin, but what caught Cas' attention the most was the happy little trail of hair that disappeared into his low jeans. The angel growled. Those pants needed to be gone, like, yesterday. Dean paused as his eyes darkened even further. Seeming to understand what Cas wanted he unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them halfway. Here he stopped and gazed deeply into blue eyes as he almost whispered, "Your turn. Clothes. Off. Now."

The deep, demanding voice sent shivers down Castiel's spine and right into his re-interested dick. He scrambled to obey that heavenly being in from of him and soon they were both completely naked pressing their bodies against one another. Dean's erection pressed hot and heavy against Cas' hip as he leaned in close and whispered, "Can I take you today, Cas?" Surprise coloured Castiel's face as he gazed at Dean's nervous features. Nuzzling into his shoulder Cas nodded before whispering back, "But I don't know what to do..."

Dean's face broke into an adorable smile as he kissed Cas lovingly. "I guess we will just have to figure it out together, won't we?" Cas breathed a sigh of relief. He trusted Dean completely and was more than willing to try anything to bring them closer. The hunter rolled them over so that Castiel was laying flat on his back before slithering down the length of his body, trailing kisses as he went. Pausing at the soft skin near the hipbone Dean began licking and nipping as he slipped one slick finger into Castiel. The angel hadn't even noticed that the hunter had grabbed the lube until he was already wiggling the single digit all the way in. Just having part of Dean filling him made Cas even needier than he had already become. "Dean, please..."

Grinning against his hip Dean added a second finger before scissoring him open. An unexpected yelp of pleasure escaped Cas as his prostate was hit. Dean began licking and sucking Castiel's hardening member while brushing against the sweet spot he had found. Now moving himself more forcefully down onto the fingers Cas began mewling a litany of little 'please's while gripping his own fingers in sandy blonde hair. A third finger, then a fourth was added as the 'please's became more and more insistent. Removing his hand Dean came back up to smash his lips against Cas' in a furiously passionate kiss. Castiel looked down to see Dean's cock rock hard and dripping pre-cum onto the sheets. He slowly licked his way up Dean's neck stopping at his ear to whisper one more dark and dirty 'please'.

Dean wasted no time lathering more lube onto himself before lining up his cock and slowly sliding in. Cas sucked in his breath and lifted his knees more to accommodate the new feeling. For some long moments they both stilled looking into each other's eyes before Cas began to wiggle beneath his lover. Dean's eyelids fluttered as he rolled his hips slowly, "I don't remember heaven feeling this good, Angel."

Cas titled his head puzzled as to what he could mean before Dean lifted up and slammed back down onto his prostate. His eyes flew wide and a moan escaped before he stuttered out "Again. Oh god, Dean. Do that again!" With a satisfied smirk the hunter began a steady, but precise pace pounding down into his partner. Cas couldn't believe it. After all this time here he was finally physically joined to the man whose soul he had fallen in love with long ago. He gently raked his fingernails down Dean's back as his eyes rolled back in his head and his thighs drew closer. A quick glance at Dean's face showed that he was also close to losing control and so Cas leaned forward to grab his hips and slammed them harder against his own. "More, Dean. Together, oh god."

The next movements were a blur as Cas lost himself in the utter ecstasy of their simultaneous orgasms. When he finally started to come down he found himself cradled in Dean's arms as the man carded his fingers gently through his black hair. Nuzzling into Dean's neck overwhelmed with unexpected affection Cas murmured uncertainly, "Was... Was that alright? Did, did I do okay?"

Dean pulled back so suddenly the angel froze. The incredulous look on the hunter's face was immediately followed by a disbelieving chuckle and tightened hold on the blue eyed man. "Yes, Cas, you 'did okay.' Really, though, more than okay. I have never heard you say god's name in vain before and let me tell you, that was fucking HOT." Cas buried his groans in Dean's chest as he cursed himself. That just made Dean laugh harder as he pulled Cas into a deep kiss. "Listen, buddy. I'm pretty sure blasphemy is seriously low on the list of "Things God Is Mad At Cas About."

Castiel glared. "Thanks for the reminder..." Any other protests were drowned out with Deans persistent kisses anywhere and everywhere that he could reach. "Fine. Fine! You win this time..." He couldn't help the enormous grin that split his face when he gazed upon the man in front of him. With all the shit that they had gone through to get to this point, Castiel was going to protect what they had until his final moment. And if that included some (lots of) pleasure? Cas was more than willing to accept that.


End file.
